“Everyone is on lockdown”
I look around me. The café that usually sprawls over with expats around this time of the day looks back at me, bored and kind of deserted. As if left alone by lovers that didn’t come to please the affluent mind with chit chatter and the usual NGO affairs that sink into the red sofas and web the carpet of the expat life.
Adam looks up from his laptop, shrugs his shoulders: “it can’t be that bad.”
“Why?” I had just gotten a text message telling me about the recent lockdown for the embassy and UN people, meaning that they were not allowed to move outside of their compound and no one who doesn’t work there is allowed in. The only people sitting in the café, is us. Us, who don’t have any security restrictions, no compound to crouch away into, no time limits when to be back home and no rules to break.
“If there was an attack expected then they might cut the phone lines so that the Taliban can’t communicate with each other…”
Mmh…all our mobile phones still work. We both nod and get back to work. A usual day in Kabul. In all its weirdness.